


More Than Enough

by fishingboatblues



Series: Stancest Week 2017 [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Incest, M/M, Stancest Week 2017, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 03:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9529637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishingboatblues/pseuds/fishingboatblues
Summary: My piece for Stancest Week Day 1: Teen Stans.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this sleep deprived as fuck so I'm not entirely keen on this nor do I think it's my best work, but I wanted to get at least a little something done so I hope it's okay!

Stan sighs, frowning as he looks to the clock; it’s 5pm and Ford isn’t home yet. It’s not abnormal for Ford’s chess club to run a little late sometimes, his nerdy brother often has a tendency of getting distracted and staying later than intended. Despite that Stan feels something twist awkwardly in his stomach. Stan’s not what anyone would call smart but he’s always had good instincts about most people, he’s always been able to tell when something was up from the word ‘go’.

Fidgeting nervously with the corners of a comic book he bites his lip. Stan’s not really a believer in all that twin telepathy mumbo jumbo that a lot of people like to talk about but he can’t help feeling uneasy. He doesn’t know what it is but there’s a tension in the air and he can feel himself itching to leave the house and find him, pick him up at the school gate if he has to.

Half an hour passes and he can feel himself growing impatient, his foot tapping restlessly at the floor as his eyes read over the same ‘WHAM!’ action bubble for minutes on end. It isn’t long, however, before he’s grabbing his jacket and rushing out into the cool evening air.

He finally finds Ford, almost an hour later, sitting in the Stan O’ War and looking grim as he stares down at the wood paneling of the boat. “Sixer?” Stan asks, his hand reaching out gently for Ford’s shoulder. “…you okay, bro?”

Ford lifts his head to look him and Stan hisses angrily as he sees Ford’s face, his cheek is coloured an angry red, his nose dotted with blood and his glasses are cracked. Stan’s hands clench, one against his side and the other in mid-air. He opens and closes it, rage bubbling in chest as he places his hand gently on Ford’s cheek. “Crampelter?” He questions although they both know it’s pointless as Stan already knows the answer, Ford nods anyway confirming what Stan already knows to be true.

“I’m gonna murder that son of a bitch.” Stan growls, eyes narrowing and his face scrunching up in rage. God, he can’t fucking wait to be rid of Glass Shard Beach and its inhabitants, he can’t wait until him and Ford sail away and leave this backwater town behind. 

Ford puts his hand on top of Stan’s, eyes avoidant and Stan knows he probably wants to push it away. Stan knows that him protecting Ford has always been the status quo but he also knows it isn’t something Ford enjoys, that it isn’t something he encourages in Stan.

The touch is softer than the physical affection they usually tend to exchange and Stan can’t help but savour it, he can’t help but enjoy it whilst it lasts. He sighs internally and brings himself back to reality, Stan has to draw a line somewhere; there’s only so much he can get away with without Ford realizing that what Stan feels for him is more than brotherly, more than familial. But still Stan can’t help himself, can’t help the way he just gravitates towards Ford, it’s like some weird kind of magnetism that he just can’t resist.

 “I’d rather you didn’t.” Ford begins, voice rough. Shit, he probably hasn’t had any water in hours especially if he’d been hiding from Crampelter for the last hour or more. “Disposing of a body is extremely difficult.” He jokes, but his tone is all kinds of off and Stan knows he’s merely trying to put on a brave face for him. “Besides we’d be very likely suspects…everyone knows how he treats us, it wouldn’t be much a stretch to see the local freak as capable of committing murder.”

Stan’s heart stalls in his chest and his other hand immediately finds its place on Ford’s neck, Stan’s eyes lock with Ford’s as he moves his face close enough that Ford can’t avert his eyes with shame. “You are _not_ a freak, Sixer!” Stan reassures, his hand kneads at Ford’s neck massaging the tension he can feel knotting in Ford’s muscles. “You’re my goddamn _brother,_ you’re the smartest person in this stupid town and ya worth a _million_ of these fuckin’ idiots!”

“I know I’m smarter, I’m well aware of that fact, but what’s the point of being intelligent when I-I’m, well… _this_.” He gestures with one hand to himself. He sighs, his breath turning to mist around them and Stan can feel it puffing on his face as Ford looks down.

Stan hates this, hates everything about this with every fiber of his being, he just can’t understand how anyone could hate Ford; he just doesn’t understand why they can’t see Ford for the brilliant, amazing person that he is. Who gives a fuck about his hands anyway? He sure as hell doesn’t and neither should anybody else. Ford’s a literal genius and someday, Stan knows for sure and is one hundred percent certain, his brother is going to go down in history. Heck, he’ll probably be writing famous science journals or something whilst they’re sailing the world on the Stan O’ War.

 “Perhaps if I was some sort of hero or a famous scientist they’d think better of my character, maybe they would change their minds about me…”

Stan’s hand delicately touches Ford’s face, his hand shifting to Ford’s chin as he forces his brother to look at him, as he forces him to see that no matter what anybody else thinks about him Stan is always going to have his back. Ford’s hand moves with him, resting lightly around Stan’s wrist and Stan can’t even begin to understand what Ford really wants, but what he does know is that Sixer deserves better, that trying to impress those jerks is pointless.

“If the only way for them to like ya is for you to become some big shot then they aren’t worth nothin’, Sixer. They should like ya for _you_ , Ford, not cause you’re gonna be some famous hero or whatever!” Stan shakes his head, annoyed at the mere idea of those two faced assholes cosying on up to Ford.

“They should like ya because of who you are, they should like you because you’re smart, passionate as fuck and ya never back down from a challenge! It’s on them for not tryin’ to know ya, because god if they ever actually pulled their heads outta their asses they’d know you’re the best thing to happen to this damned town in decades!”

Ford stares at Stan as he finishes his tirade and the look he gives him is one of complete shock, as if he hadn’t been expecting such a heated response. Heck, Ford looks startled by how impassioned Stan’s words are, by how bright Stan’s anger burns. However, something in Ford expression shifts and the hand on top of his squeezes his hand. Stan can feel his mouth going dry and his pulse picking up speed, the way Sixer is looking at him has him sweating buckets, has him wanting things he shouldn’t want.

Before Stan even has the chance to ask Ford what’s up his brother is leaning forward, his eyes closing as his mouth touches Stan’s. The reaction is immediate, it feels like electricity running through him, it feels like his whole body is on fire and that the only thing that can stop him from burning up completely is Ford’s lips blanketing his own.

The kiss ends abruptly as it began as Ford pulls away and smiles softly at him. “Thank you.” He says, voice as resolute as Stan has ever heard him. It isn’t an answer or an explanation, but it’s as close to confirmation as he’s likely to get from him, to Stan at least it’s a sign of hope; a promise for their shared future.

Besides he’s got more than enough time to ask Ford how he really feels, more than enough for them to work through the tangled thread that is their feelings for one another. They have a whole future together after all, that’s more than enough time, right?  


End file.
